Page 33 of Blissful Devotion

I’m exhausted, but the thought of sleeping in that bed, knowing Lorenzo has no intention of ever letting me go, makes goosebumps break out on my arms.

I lay my head on the toilet and sigh in relief when the cool porcelain meets my overheated skin.

“Señorita?”

I jerk awake, unsure where I am for a moment before the nightmare that is my life comes rushing back.

I whip around to find the same girl from yesterday standing in the doorway, and while she doesn’t look upset exactly, her eyes seem darker than they were yesterday.

Pity.

It takes me a second to recognize the emotion for what it is, but now that I see it, it’s impossible to miss.

I turn away; I don’t need or want her pity.

They’ll come for me; I just have to hold it together until then.

Dropping my hand to my stomach, I feel the slight swell and know I can do this, even if not for me.

I know they won’t give up on me, so I won’t either.

“The master has requested you join him for breakfast.” Her accent is more noticeable now that I’m paying attention, and I turn back to really look at her.

She doesn’t look old enough to have a job, especially not one like this. If I had to guess, I’d say she’s probably sixteen, tops. She has warm brown skin and dark brown hair, and her eyes look dark too, though I can’t be certain since she has yet to meet my gaze.

Her hair is pulled back out of her face, in a bun at the base of her neck, and covered in a black bonnet cover that matches her ridiculous uniform.

What year is this?

She wears a long black dress that stops just below her ankles, with long sleeves, puffed shoulders, and a high, buttoned neck. Her apron is bright white with ruffled shoulders and pockets around her waist.

The logo on her shoulder looks like a family crest that I’m sure is Lorenzo’s, but I’ve never seen it before now.

She’s beautiful, but I don’t need her to meet my gaze to know she’s also terrified.

What might have happened to land this poor girl here…

I shake the thought away; I can’t help her if I don’t help myself, and right now that means not pissing off the man who could decide to kill me just because he feels like it.

Somehow I doubt he ‘requested’ anything. Lorenzo doesn’t strike me as the type to ask for things.

With a deep breath, I steel myself to face whatever the day has for me, for them, for our baby.

I can do this.

But even as I push to stand, my legs wobble, and I’m not sure I believe myself.

No, I know I can do this; I dealt with Carter for years; that’s all this is.

‘Fake it till ya make it,’ and all that.

The girl moves out of my way as I leave the bathroom, each step more sure than the last.

“What’s your name?” I stop before her, my voice rough from crying and puking all night.

I see the shock cross her face before she quickly schools her features, averting her gaze down to the floor.

“Sofía.”